Drabble 12: Raindrops

The thunder was rolling in lazily, warning only with a bright flash. Rain followed this angry gesture of the gods. It fell lamely, overflowing in shallow holes on the ground.

Wilson was lying atop paperwork, hands folded, a pillow for his aching head. The tears that dripped from his innocent brown eyes fell onto the written letters and many diagnoses. He sighed and let the rain wash away the glass confining him from the outside. If anything, he would have a better view to a happy world he'd never be part of.

Sadly, Wilson admitted House would never love him.

Fin.